


The Sun and His Moon

by Legitaprincess



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ash Lynx Lives, Kinda, M/M, POV Third Person, ash is an angel, my summaries are not the greatest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legitaprincess/pseuds/Legitaprincess
Summary: "My star, whatever you do, remember you can never reach the sun. If you try you will burn and fall back to earth."Eiji had always heard whispered rumors about the people of the sun. He had heard that they were beautiful, skilled in magic and ever so kind.What he hadn't known was that falling in love with them would burn him beyond recovery.Tags and warnings will be updated as needed
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	The Sun and His Moon

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! so this is my first time writing something so plot heavy and fantasy so please bear with me. this idea has been in my head for ages but i wanted to write it well and so after 3 months here is the first chapter.  
> as always, please comment what you think!  
> thanks for reading!

Ever since he was a little boy, he had heard stories of the sun. His grandmother would pull him into her lap, smoothing back his unmanageable, inky hair as she whispered a tale he had memorized by heart.

The fire would be dying out, casting long shadows on her weathered face, sharpening each line etched in. She would bring her face, level to his and he would tilt up his chin, breath caught in his chest, waiting for her to begin. When the embers seemed to no longer have any strength left in them, she would begin, looking off into the fading flames. He saw the hint of sadness and though he didn’t have the words then, he now knew she had looked as if she wished the flames would swallow her alive.

"Eiji, my star. In this world, there are many things we do not understand. There are many people we cannot reach." She would sigh, petting his head absentmindedly, looking a million miles away. "The people of the sun. My star, whatever you do, remember you can never reach the sun. If you try you will burn and fall back to earth." Her free hand would go to rub the back of her neck where a single scar, in the shape of a bursting sunray, had been there for as long as he could remember.

"Who are the people of the sun?" He would tilt his head, nudging against her hand, until she began to play with his hair once more. She stayed silent, brows drawn in.

"My star, they are people with bright, shining hearts. They look to always have this light reflected on every surface of their skin. Some are the color of dark ochre and have rich voices. Others like light snow and have breezy voices." She looked into his eyes, holding his gaze till he was enraptured. "They all have hair the color of the sun. Some darker shades like sun weathered daffodils, others pure gold. The ones whose hair is the color of sunlight spun are the ones you must never hold." She reached down grabbing his hand tightly. "Promise me Eiji. You will never think of holding them in your arms. Promise me." He nodded, fear curling in his stomach, her musty breath causing goose bumps to stand on every point on his body.

When she was satisfied with his answer, she would lean back, letting go of his hands. Sometimes, if she had let go quickly and seemed to believe his small nod, he'd ask, press her further. Sometimes she'd smile small, and answer with another tale. Most of the time she'd sigh, telling him she was tired.

"Granny, did you ever meet them?" He was growing older, his grandmother's voice softer, her grip loosening. Still she held him in her lap, hands running through his messy hair that was longer now, reaching the nape of his neck and twisting like vines.

Her lips pressed together, eyes darting to all corners of the room as if there was something hiding there. Finally, she dropped her head down to meet his ear.

"My star, you are so young," she hesitated before continuing, "but I fear you will have to grow too quickly soon. I cannot tell you what happened in the past but tell you this; you will be burned and marked as a traitor if you dare to love one of them." She stopped, coughing, gesturing for a sip of water.

He turned, grabbing the glass that sat on the small table beside him. She swallowed the water, her small Adams apple bobbing, up and down, the repetitive movement more captivating than her spells. "But if you choose to love them, make sure you hold on. They are a blessing. But keep your love hidden. If the village learns of your love, they will take the poor creature and destroy them. Run if you fall in love. No. Run now. It'll be too late if you wait."

He blinked, digesting what his grandmother had dared to suggest. He was the next in line to be the head of their town and a candidate to be appointed to the royal court. To leave all that for the sake of someone he may one day love? He shook his head. He knew his grandmother was not quite right in the head, not after what had happened.

After being dismissed from her position, his grandmother had never been the same, always looking wistful at the sky, as if waiting to leave. Or perhaps to simply escape for the sins that weighed on her hunched shoulders.

He had heard whispers of an angel that resided in their town hall, the source of their prosperity. An angel who seemed to have appeared, when his grandmother was cast away, her title stripped from her. An angel whose cries echoed throughout the night, calling out a single name in a strangled, hoarse voice. As small circles were rubbed in his back, lulling him to sleep, he wondered if his grandmother had known that angel. He wondered if his grandmother had loved that angel. He wondered if his grandmother knew about the rumors.

"Grandmother, you should have told me if you wanted to garden. I would've helped," Eiji wiped down his grandmother's hands with tender care, rubbing an ointment on the scrapes. Carefully wrapping up the bandages he sat back to examine his handiwork.

"You have gotten so big, my star, but you still cannot bandage a wound properly. What are those tutors doing?" The white cloth slipped off her thin knobby fingers, remaining constricting on her wrist, the tan skin bluing.

She tutted, guiding his hands as she fixed his work, a rhythm of over and under Eiji couldn’t dream of replicating, the intricacy a dizzying pattern.

Grabbing her shoulders, he helped her up the rotting steps of her home, if the small shack that had fallen into disrepair could even be called that. He took the steps two at a time, shifting from left to right, avoiding the damp spots which were sure to soon fall through. When her feet touched the porch, Eiji let go, letting her unlock the door, before she gestured for him to come in.

Hobbling to the kitchen, she whispered softly, blowing on her finger to light a small blue flame. The tinder was lit aflame and she grunted, hefting a small tin teapot over the fire. Dropping a few tea leaves into the pot, she seemed satisfied and shuffled into the small room behind the fire. She settled into her pillowed chair, gesturing to the stool beside her.

Her magic was another secret he had learned to keep. The magic that meant she had given her heart away to a witch with golden hair. The magic that meant, if the rumors were true, her soul was bound to crash to hell, shackled to the ground, never to reach real salvation.

If the others found out, she would no longer simply be cast away, her dignity stolen from her. No, she would be taken away and her limbs would be ripped from her, the flesh cut away and cooked, her bones ground and crushed, made into various teas, ointments and medications. And her heart? That would not be given the gift of burial either. It would remain preserved, on the altar to be thanked for generations to come. It was the greatest honor no one wanted.

He wondered if anyone knew about the beauty of magic. As his grandmother made fire dance, lighting up the small candles that were dotted around her small room, he sat down on the small stool, resting his elbows on his knees, head tilted. The sound of wick meeting flame was a calming, mesmerizing tune.

A moment of silence lapsed and before the sound of wood scraping against wood began, footsteps, then the whine of her chair. He closed his eyes, waiting for his grandmother to speak.

“My star, come here.” He turned his face in the direction of her hoarse voice, the smell bitter burnt tree root wafting towards him. He bit back a complaint, forcing his eyes to stay shut.

His grandmother gripped his chin, her short jagged nails digging crescents on his jaw. He felt her squeeze, forcing open his mouth. Without much warning, she pressed a hot, clay cup to his lips, his mouth swallowing without much thought.

She waited as he swirled the flavors around in his mouth, feeling the bitterness of the licorice root burn his tongue and the sweet, gentle taste of poison behind it.

He swallowed and felt her eyes on him, expectant. Despite the drink he just had, his mouth felt dry. He knew what would happen if he answered wrong, his muscles tensing, fear seeming to be the only thing that opened his mouth.

“It is licorice tea, and its bitter flavor hides the sweetness of the poison. Most would mistake it for honey or sugar.” He felt the poison kicking in, his fingers feeling cool, his heart slowing down. He just couldn’t place the name of it. It was a new one, perhaps one he had recently been taught. He wondered if his explanation was enough to sate his grandmother’s questions. He knew it wasn’t.

“And what, pray tell my star, is the name of this poison?” He felt the cup press against his mouth in a silent warning, the cool clay feeling suddenly too warm.

His skin was cooling fast and if he guessed wrong, another sip of the tainted tea would be more than enough to send him into a slumber. He didn’t know if he would wake up from it.

Yet, if he chose to simply not answer, the antidote would be swung onto the highest branch of a old conifer, the needles sharper than usual, as his grandmother would ask him, her voice sweeter than the sharp poison, asking him to get it.

“I believe it is the berry of the belladonna, crushed.” He opened his eyes, albeit hesitantly, looking into his grandmother’s eyes.

It had happened overnight, her obsession with teaching him what she had learned before she took charge of the village. Things that were no longer taught to him. They told him it was to protect him. She told him it was to make him weak, easy to control.

It had been at first little things. She had sat him down, pulling out a jagged dagger, the metal flaking at the hilt, and the binding on the handle falling apart. He held it, weighing the old thing in his hand, wondering what it was used for. Cutting vegetables? Peeling fruits? Perhaps it was for carving.

How naïve he was.

He learned the only thing that had been cut were fingers of those who refused to listen. The only thing that had been peeled away was the skin of those who ran. The only thing carved, was his grandmother’s name, branding her council as those to be feared.

“My star, you must remember to push out, that way you won’t cut yourself.” The lax expression she wore seemed at odd with the gruesome lesson. Too gruesome for a boy of ten.

Yet he had nodded, his hands working and his mind stopping.

“It won’t happen again, my star. Eiji, promise me it won’t happen again.”

And he would promise a promise that he didn’t know the meaning of.

“Well done.” He opened one eye slowly, looking at his grandmother wearily. Her soft words, that were almost too quiet to be heard over the sound of wax dripping, filled the room, tension collapsing. He opened his other eye, taking the cracked clay cup from her shaking hands, making a note to break and bury the shards later on. She gestured to the fire, where the kettle was set to be brewing something new. The antidote.

His lips curled into a grimace. Of course, she would have a remedy ready, why wouldn’t she?

After all, poisoning the heir was something that could not be tolerated. Even if his grandmother’s presence was now only in whispers of tall tales, spun to small children, the elders remembered her.

They remembered her as a kind, charismatic leader, who had many lovers, men, women and people falling over to woo her. She promised great things and worked hard.

They remembered her as a cold, calculating tyrant, who had a body count higher than anyone truly knew, cutting down anyone who seemed to be a threat. She made great things happen, at the expense of other’s lives.

She had no weakness till she had fallen in love.

Eiji wasn’t privy to the details, the story far too gruesome even for a man of twenty-one.

All he knew was that his grandmother had been always there for him, telling him tales, teaching him tricks and tying him down to a fate he wasn’t sure he wanted.

Yet, he couldn’t turn her away, cast her to live alone, with memories of a time long gone. He had learned that was much more dangerous.

“My star, come sit here.” The voice was commanding, urging him to listen. For a moment he felt like a child again, enraptured by her tall tales. Then he blinked and there was, in a cold empty shack, devoid of anything but ambition and broken dreams. the magic that surrounded the air as a child no longer existed and he doubted it ever did. Still he obliged, turning to face his grandmother, waiting for her.

“I have heard rumors, my star. Rumors of an angel being kept locked away in the town hall’s cellar. Her wings are clipped and the feathers ground to fine diamond, added to the ministers’ food and drink.” She paused, and for the first time, Eiji saw guilt flash through her eyes. “If you bed her, you will be able to save her. You must fill her with your seed, my star, no matter what she says. Even if she fights or screams. The angels, once they are taken to bed, will grant you the ability to do anything you wish. Even the ability to save them.” He felt cold.

He swallowed her words, feeling each one wrapping its meaning around his throat till no air could enter.

He understood what his grandmother was implying. He understood what a monster she was.

Yet all he could manage was a nod, lips pressed into a line keeping the bile overflowing and, more importantly, words that would cut a chasm in his grandmother’s heart.

She didn’t say goodbye, as he rose gathering the ripped knapsack he would bring filled with food, flint, and sometimes, if he was able to, loose tea leaves. He closed the door without a goodbye. If he took so much as a glance towards her, he feared he would see the devil in her eyes, the last warmth extinguished.

The walk back to the town was quiet. The road was winding, wind kicking up dust that never seemed to settle no matter how much it rained. No one dared come to this part of the woods, lest the old batty chief snatch them away for experiments or simply for her own pleasure.

Eiji had grown up denying all the rumors that were whispered under the trees and exaggerated in drunken tales. Stares from the town’s children and eventually their taunts, was enough to cause him to seek refuge in his grandmother’s company. He had believed, even argued with the others that his grandmother was a good woman. A good, kind, misunderstood woman, who had just wanted what was best for her people. And yet, as he grew up, he learned that they were not far from the truth. Then, he had simply learned to keep his head down, bite his lip from joining in the rumors, telling everyone to never venture near her, to let her drown in her thoughts alone. After all, he was related to the witch. Had her blood running in his veins, blood that seemed to only be sated when others would bend down and mindlessly obey each and every word. He was just as terrible for letting her live, giving her comforts of life every now and then.

He was even more terrible for not stopping.

As he reached the edge of the town, he paused, footsteps hesitating. East or West? Dawn or dusk? Hope or despair?

His feet took a step forward, the decision made. He walked slowly; dread building in his heart as he attempted to convince himself. He was only going to check, nothing more. He had never been allowed within the inner halls and now he wondered if it was because she was right.

His heart burned, each step a lighting flame to it, till he stood in front of the modest, sliding doors. The Hall was a sprawling maze of rooms connected by winding hallways, parts being added as each generation succeeded. It was where Eiji’s father and grandmother had lived and where he would one day take up residence. Anyone was welcome to come into the Hall, yet no outsider was privy to the central chamber that sat beneath the surface of the Earth, through the spiraling hallways and buried, a dirty secret of the family. There were only rumors that it even existed amongst the residents, some saying it was demolished when Eiji’s grandmother was removed from ruling. After all, the only indication something may have even once existed there was a barren field, that sat in the center of the all the rooms and passageways.

Walking in, he bowed to the young woman who took care of all the Hall’s affairs. She was betrothed to the head of security, making for an interesting couple to say the least, though who was Eiji to judge when all the couples around him were only together for the sake of politics.

“Lord Eiji,” she bowed deeply, her bangs sweeping the floor.

“Head of Affairs Nadia, please, raise your head.” She obliged, eyes still downcast.

“May I be so bold to ask what it is you are doing here?” A hint of suspicion entered her voice, just enough to put Eiji on edge.

“I am simply here to look at some scripts in the inner rooms. There is an upcoming meeting, which I am sure you know of. I need to prepare for it.” He hoped the cool tone of his voice was enough to dissuade her from pushing further.

“I see. Then I hope you find what you need, my Lord. If you need any assistance, I ask that you find my esteemed brother or I to assist you. May light shine on your path.” She bowed once again, this time not rising, waiting.

“Thank you. May light shine on your path.” He nodded, knowing she would not lift her head till he had turned the corner. He wondered how her head didn’t fall off from doing that constantly. He wondered if he would be able to change that tradition once he received his title. _If_ he received it.

Despite the public’s lack of consensus on the existence of the central chamber, most working in the Hall knew it was real. Few, even those of the chief’s lineage were privy to its location, however. Eiji, of course, knew exactly where the central chamber was and how to avoid the lax security that came by every few hours, checking the locks before walking off, not risking to even touch the brass locks for more than a few seconds, lest the smell of death seep into their bones and corrupt them. Just like it had corrupted his grandmother. His father would never say it, but he feared Eiji would one day encompass all the hatred and cruelty his grandmother embodied and finish what she had started.

It was one of the reasons he had never been allowed to visit the chambers, why he was still cast away, like an outsider. The Hall was a home never known to him.

Although that had not stopped him, and his insatiable childhood curiosity, from sneaking out at night, when the last of the light had faded, leaving him slivers of moonlight to guide him. Despite his yearning to know more, he had never ventured too far in the chamber, keeping close to door, hand on the wall, a lifeline in the dark.

He would go in every now and then, perhaps once every few months. The chamber itself was dimly lit, no light entered and the single torch that sat in its scone did nothing to expel the inky darkness. It was almost as if there was something to be hidden within the dark, something whose light needed to be smothered and buried underneath the blanket of silence.

He only heard it once. A late night, when the moon had been at its brightest. The town had drunk themselves to sleep and those who could not drink, had fallen asleep long before, the boisterous laughs and smell of sweet alcohol a soft lullaby. He had untangled himself from the limbs of his mother, carefully stepping over his sister.

Celebrations were held close to the Hall, only a few minutes walk away. The guards themselves had stolen some drinks and were sitting on the cold, stone floor, eyes shut. Eiji had walked softly, following a path he knew almost by heart.

He reached into the drawer, hands wandering till he felt for the heavy key, wrapped in soft cotton, embroidered with silk. Grabbing it, he carefully removed it from its beautiful cloth, fingers brushing against the designs, before pocketing the key. Moving quickly down the, hallways, checking to ensure that there was no one around to catch him, he realized how unnecessary the key was.

The lock was an old simple one and was quite simple to pick. Eiji had, on more than one occasion done so. Yet, picking the lock made the very act of going into the central chamber even more criminal and forbidden. At least with a key in hand, he reasoned, he could pretend that he had stumbled upon it and in a moment of curiosity, as often happened with children, had began to try it in various doors.

Reaching the doors, he fished out the key from his pocket. As he opened the locks and turned the handle, he wondered what truly was inside. Perhaps it was that curiosity gaining courage or perhaps it was the Gods, deciding to turn the wheels of fate. He wondered if he would ever know what compelled him to walk into the chamber, letting go of the wall, with a single candle flame to guide him.

He had never known how big the central chamber was, the Hall’s blueprints simply showed it as a crater, with other buildings surrounding it. His previous exploits had only led him into the first turn before he felt as if he was going to be consumed by the darkness, running out to rinse his mouth with water. As he walked, hand running over smooth surfaces, that were cool to the touch, he realized the sudden grandiose of the place.

Although he couldn’t see, the dips and curves of the surfaces felt eerily similar to the statues and Gods his village prayed to. The floor was clean, and laid with marble tiles, if the soft echoes of his footsteps were any indication. And, if Eiji closed his eyes, he could hear the soft bird song coming from deep within the chamber. No expense had been spared.

As he had edged closer, his light flickering and running dangerously low, he heard a shrill noise. It was a guttural sound, bordering on animalistic. The candle flickered, arching towards the voice, pulled and stretched until it could not reach any further, extinguishing itself. It was a sound asking, beggin for help, for anybody to come. His feet stood still and he gathered up his courage. Swallowing, what little moisture remained in his throat, Eiji closed his eyes and turned. The sound of a small child crying, no, begging for death had been too much for a child of thirteen and he had run.

He had never gone back again following that. Guilt clawed at him for months after the incident. Someone, a _child,_ was being hurt and what had he done? Turned away and covered his ears like the coward he was, refusing to tell anyone. He knew what the screams had meant. The light undulating towards the noise had told him all he needed to know. Telling the others would mean admitting he had thought of himself above the law, going into the chambers whilst unblessed. It would also mean disclosing all that his grandmother had told him between soft, conspiratorial whispers. His grandmother would be exiled, killed, sacrificed.

So he had stayed silent, choosing his grandmother’s caged freedom over a young child’s safety.

It was laughable, the leader of the empire’s clan, second regime, a pathetic, weak coward. He was not fit to lead, much less protect thousands of people, he could not protect one child.

As he traced the steps he once took, nostalgia washed over him along with the feeling he was forgetting something. Running his hand over the smooth brass vases, the deep gouges once home to rubies, emeralds and sapphires, he felt a sense of calm washing over him.

No, it wasn’t calm, he realized. It was the feeling of magic. The same magic his grandmother used countless times to subdue him when his questions had become too pointed and too close to the truth. A spell to make his tongue heavy, thoughts slowing down till he could no longer understand what had been pushing him to stay awake. 

Eiji felt his eyes closing, the weight of the world coming down around him and crushing him. He felt his feet slipping, his body following them to the ground, when his hand left the vase. His body jerked, spine straightening out, mind becoming clear. Turning, to look back at the vase, a wave of terror ran through him. His grandmother’s magic was here, embedded into the vases and art pieces. How had he never noticed? The overpowering scent of crushed berries, surrounded him, his knees giving out. Edging towards a chaise that housed itself between two paintings, Eiji, let himself fall into the comforting embrace of soft silk.

As soon as he had sat, a headache bloomed from behind his left temple, slowly spreading throughout. It was a headache that asked you to think, pressing for answers. He wandered in the deep crevices of his mind, opening doors, trying to find something, anything that sate this need. He brushed against an old memory, stained and dusty from negligence. Waves of emotion and snatched pieces of conversation were all he could remember before he felt the remnants of magic threaten to push down his consciousness.

Of course she would, he realized. Of course, his grandmother would not only play with his life, making him out to be a social pariah, but also tamper with his memories. He couldn’t hold back the bitter laugh that was bubbling in his chest. But he wasn’t about to just give up.

Closing his eyes, Eiji relaxed his breathing, letting his mind empty out and feel for a loose thread of magic. A, small, barely noticeable ripple originating from his left was all he found and he grasped on to it, holding it as he willed his own energy into the strand. As he pushed, he willed the thread to bend and twist till he had fashioned a small loop. Easing it towards himself, he lifted his fingers, grasping it, when it shattered in his hands.

He sighed, opening his eyes, disappointed, yet not surprised. He was the weakest of his siblings. Even his younger sister who had presented her talents quite late, could manage some simple sensing. His aptitude for magic was on par with a town’s child; nonexistent. Although his family couldn’t use magic like his grandmother, they could sense it and, if the spell weak enough, break some curses. Except, Eiji smiled ruefully, the one placed on them by themselves. The curse that mandated they forever live under wraps, stealing from others to ensure their prosperity. Tormenting children for wealth.

He did wish, he could have their magic. Perhaps then he would remember what he so desperately needed to. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have been a coward and could’ve protected that child. Perhaps then he could’ve stood up to his grandmother.

But what good did thinking do? No matter what he wished for, he was still Eiji, heir to the town, simply because he was the only one. Eiji, the coward who even after nine years could only find excuses not to venture forward. The haunting memory of screams forced him to his feet. Despite the nausea, he refused to sit down. Did he have any right too?

Walking down the hallway, hand on the wall, he paused every so often to check if he was being followed. Head of Affairs Nadia wasn’t especially nosy but if she had suspected something, she would not let it go. Even if it meant going into the central chambers. It was that tenacity that had led to her assignment in the first place, despite being a woman and from an outside clan.

Initially, her younger brother had been selected to take on the role of Head of Affairs, but for some reason, he had declined the invitation. Instead he nominated his older sister for the role, garnering much support in Eiji’s town and his own. When she had been chosen, he had seemed surprised that his campign had managed to work. Her brother had remained in their town, despite offers of other positions, moving up the ranks till he had earned the title of Governor. Eiji saw him at negotiations and festivals, an easy smile on his face, that made one forget how sharp he was. They were an interesting set of siblings. Too smart for anybody’s good. Eiji found it quite amusing.

It had been around 10 minutes of walking when he heard it. It was soft at first, a hum of noise, like wind rustling curtains on a quiet night. As he walked forward, he heard it again, now distinctly human. It was still soft, the voice almost tentative, but it was clearly a voice. Eiji slowed down, straining his ears to catch it, maybe make out some words.

As he edged closer to the end of the hallway, he heard it again. A scratched voice, clearing and trying to sing. He blinked.

Singing. Or what it seemed like. The voice couldn’t carry a single note, emphasizing the wrong parts, losing the rhythm at the end, going far too fast. It was somewhat, cute. Eiji felt a small smile grace his lips for the first time in what felt like forever.

Despite the tone-deaf tune, he still found himself humming along, feeling at ease. Too at ease, he realized with a start. The same feeling he would get when his grandmother would tell him stories. He blinked, willing himself to be on guard, as he reached the end of the hallway. Splitting off into two hallways, he stood, at the fork in the road. How cliché.

Closing his eyes, he let himself feel around, searching for a spark of life. A small flicker came from his left. Odd. The soft voice had been coming from his right. But perhaps that was a distraction. Most individuals who would manage to sneak in here, wouldn’t have any magical ability. It was a clever trick, one that only a royal could discern. A royal with magical abilities, he corrected himself. Closing his eyes, he felt around for that small flicker, recoiling back when it jumped out much quicker than usual. The cavern was full of magical energy, amplifying his weak magic. That or his magical aptitude wasn’t nearly as lacking as he thought it was.

Keeping one hand on the wall, he followed the trail, the voice growing quieter as he moved forward. The tiled floor shifted to stone, causing his footsteps growing louder, each step resounding with a soft echo. He could use a spell to soften his steps but what was the point in spending useful energy on something so trivial. After all, this deep in, he doubted anyone else would be around. And if they were, well, he could always take care of them one way or another.

The spark behind his eyes had slowly transformed into an steady flame and if he closed his eyes, it dominated his vision. One more turn and the source would be there. Or so he assumed. He didn’t know too much about magic or figuring these things out. His sisters used to try to teach him but when it became clear that there was no point, their lessons turned into them demonstrating what they knew. Eiji didn’t mind much. Afterall, watching was entertaining and if there was no point in teaching him, why waste time?

As he turned, expecting another diverting hallway, he felt the ground soften significantly, the smell of fir and pine greet him. Odd. He cracked open one eye.

A small clearing, complete with a waterfall and an open sky greeted him. He was dreaming. That was the explanation. This wasn’t on any of the maps and none of the forests had a cavern of this size. Spying a clump of cyclamen, he decided to risk it. Bending down, Eiji plucked one, feeling the leaves. Coarse, with some bumps. He tore a small portion of a leaf, praying this would work. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the leaf, making sure to bite down. A sweet syrup gushed out, tasting like candy. As sweet as ignorance. He blinked once, waiting for a bitter aftertaste that never came.

Spitting out the leaf, he felt his heart slow down, breath catching in his throat. He was wrong. _This_ had been a distraction. Turning on his heels, he ran back the way he had come, feet pounding against the stone floor, echoing across the hall. He didn’t bother with attempting to quiet his steps against the floor, not caring who heard. He remembered his grandmother telling him about this spell, an illusion cast to manipulate the visual environment of an area.

“My star, it is a very useful trick. You may not be able to change what is actually there, but you can at least put a curtain, so to speak, over the place.” His grandmother had pulled back his hair, pressing gauze over a cut from their latest training session. “It would be so useful if you could learn it.”

“Is there anyway someone can figure out if the illusion isn’t real?” He elected to ignore the disappointment in her tone, the subtle jab at his inability to do anything she wanted right.

She had smiled then at his question. A slow smile, that overtook her face and had sharp corners. He had always wondered if she knew what he was going to ask before he even thought it himself. Perhaps, she was planting those questions in his head. But, he had ignored that thought. Afterall, there was no point in musings that could not be proven. She dropped her hands from his head and he leaned back, choosing to focus his gaze on the wooden floor.

“There are a few ways. The easiest would be to simply check to see if something in that area would match up to what it should be. The texture of a plant, the taste of the water, the height of a rock.”

Eiji nodded. It was a simple but straightforward method. Darting his eyes up, he noticed a soft smile had replaced the sharp one on his grandmother’s face. He wondered if he should take the risk and ask her what he really wanted to know.

“Is everything okay, my star?”

He nodded quickly. “I just was wondering, have you ever cast this spell?”

For once she looked surprised by his question. Surprise or just thrown off, he couldn’t tell. In any case, she paused, hands still in her lap, as she looked above his head at nothing. She was silent and Eiji almost thought she had chosen to ignore his question. “Once.”

He blinked, the number much lower than he had expected.

“An illusion is difficult to maintain. I may have cast many, but there is only one that I ensured would stay in place for a very long time.”

Eiji simply nodded, not wanting to ruin his chance to learn more.

“The illusion is a small one, mind you. It’s almost perfect except for some weeds I couldn’t get rid of. But I suppose it doesn’t matter, since no one will go there regardless.”

“But if someone did, they wouldn’t find out would they?”

She shook her head. “Unless they were brave enough to try eating the flowers there, they wouldn’t.”

“Which flowers did you put there?”

His grandmother shook her head. Instead of answering, she simply smiled. “All good things must come to an end, my star. I just wanted to remember that.”

He passed by the hallway he had taken a turn in and went straight ahead. The soft voice gradually grew louder and louder, and he felt the same pull as before. He didn’t push it away this time. Instead he let it pull him into a narrow hallway, with unlit torches lining the walls. The air grew thick, and he could picture the overwhelming darkness as miasma, clouding his vision before filling his lungs till he couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes, letting the voice guide him, pulling and pushing him anyway it wanted to. The air remained thick and his lungs begin to struggle to breath. Each breath seemed to be a struggle. He vaguely wondered if this was what death was like. But, he mused, death would be more painful. Maybe with his windpipe being crushed and his lungs punctured. That seemed more fitting for his death. Not this slight discomfort that he had brought upon himself through his own ignorance. The air began to shift around him. It was a subtle change at first, just the lessening of the pressure on his chest. Then, just as quickly as he had been grabbed, he was thrown into nothingness. Landing on his knees, he winced as he stood. He would have a scab on his right knee for sure after this.

Extending his hands around him, he tried to feel if there was anything Eiji could grab on to. When the only thing he could find was air, he sighed lowering his arms. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared to see what was in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Swallowing what fear had lodged itself in his throat, he took a deep breath. The air was crisp, similar to a forest after the rain. Hints of sawed bamboo trees and orchids crawled up his nose. He reached out, feeling for any signs of life, for a spark.

As he extended his reach, he heard a soft laugh.

“Come on, that’s cheating.” The voice.

Eiji turned, eyes flying open of their own accord. And he felt the world stop. The voice belonged to a young man, perhaps a few years younger, with hair weaved of gold. His sharp face was offset by his jewel colored eyes, that held mirth in them. He sat against a tree. Not bamboo, as Eiji thought, but an old poplar tree, with vines trailing around it. He was surrounded by flowers, seeming to be growing from him. No, Eiji realized with a start. The flowers were caging him, wrapped around his wrists and ankles, anchoring him to the tree. The boy wore a thin robe, that was open and left nothing to be hidden, save for his hips. Telltale bruises marked up his skin, from his shoulders down to the bottom of his thighs. He was scarred, lines running all over his body. He was dirty, the gold hue of his hair sullen, the more Eiji looked.

He was beautiful.

He hadn’t realized he had been staring until the voice, no, the man spoke. “Listen, I know I’m pretty good looking but isn’t rude not to at least tell me your name?” Eiji blinked, quickly looking at his face. The corner of his lip quirked up and Eiji felt as if he could tell him anything and everything. Why he had come, how he’d always felt drawn to this place, what his weakness w-

It felt as if rubber broke and Eiji fell back, eyes wide. He had almost fell under the man’s spell. No, Eiji realized, he _had_ fallen under his spell. That was why he had been drawn here, despite his tone deaf voice. It wasn’t enough that he had not told the man anything. It was enough that he had even come this far. In the back of his mind, Eiji could hear his grandmother’s sweet tone, saying words that were worse than any poison she had him try.

She would sigh, smiling wearily, as he failed yet another one of her impossible tasks. “Ah, my star. Well, I don’t know what else I expected. Afterall, you are _her_ son.”

He would swallow, wondering what else could he do? If he was younger, he would tell her that she hadn’t treated Eimi and Emiri this way, hadn’t pushed them till they couldn’t breathe. Why was it him? Was he really that weak?

“Damn, they sent one who wasn’t as easy, huh.” Eiji’s head snapped up, at the voice of the man, blinking from his daze. It no longer sounded like soft music. Just bored.

The man stretched out over his place by the tree, the thin fabric covering his modesty trekking higher as the man lifted his arms up. He had beautiful legs, Eiji noted. Toned and muscular. It didn’t make sense. If the man had been imprisoned here, there was no way for him to maintain, much less develop legs like that. And his arms were toned as well, with a slight browning to them.

“If you are going to keep looking, you may as well hire a painter to make it last longer.” The man drawled out, moving to lay on his stomach, face in his hands.

“Don’t worry, my taste in men isn’t in obnoxiously confident ones,” he paused surprised when the man let out a loud laugh. “I would also prefer a human.” This cut the man’s laughter short and in a swift moment, his eyes, which had been crinkled in mirth, narrowed.

  
Eiji wasn’t sure if he was angry, cautious or curious. Perhaps it was all three. When he waited and no reply was made, he sighed, moving closer to the man. He stopped, sitting down a few feet away, in bed of flowers. Plucking a few, he began to twist each flower until he had begun to form a chain. “I know you aren’t human. Well, I’m fairly certain you aren’t. Aside from a very select few, humans can’t use magic,” Eiji picked up a few more flowers, twisting them. “Humans also don’t have that hair color. And if any human was kept captive in a place like this for even a few months, they wouldn’t have muscles like you do.” He looked up, gauging the man’s expression. It was unreadable.

“But I’m not sure what you are. All I know is that I want to help you. Not just out of the goodness of my heart. I have a feeling helping you would help me. And if it doesn’t, well at least I’ll have done something good, right?

“The thing is, I can’t help you unless you want me too.”

Giving the flowers one last loop, he tightened them into a crown before standing up. He brushed off his pants, turning to face the man, who had now sat up. “Well, I’ll let you think about this. I’m sure trusting me, isn’t something you want to do.” Eiji walked up to the man, the flower crown in his hands. Bending slightly, he placed it on top of the stranger’s head.

“The flowers growing here, do you know what they mean?” At this, Eiji received a short, curt reply.

“No.”

  
“I see. Well, then I won’t say much except this; for those of us with magic, sometimes we may not know what we want, but out true desires will always manifest themselves, somehow around us.” He smiled, the almond blossoms and ivy a testament to the reality he knew.

“Alright then, I’m going now. I’ll do my best to be back soon.” As he walked out of the chamber, he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, my name’s Eiji.”

“Ash.” He blinked looking at the man, no Ash, curiously. “My name, it’s Ash.”

Eiji nodded, smiling softly. “How beautiful.”


End file.
